


asshole for hire

by deceptivesoldier, Falcon_chill, sianimations



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, bucky thinks they're enemies, but kind of one-sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 13:13:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16430051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deceptivesoldier/pseuds/deceptivesoldier, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falcon_chill/pseuds/Falcon_chill, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sianimations/pseuds/sianimations
Summary: There is a 6ft tall, super built, super hot blond in Bucky’s American History class, and he’s out to ruin Bucky’s life. Every single time something goes wrong for Bucky—like losing a parking spot he wasobviouslywaiting for—it can always be traced right back to StevenfuckingRogers. Alarm clock not go off? Steve’s fault. Gravel in his shoe? Steve’s fault. There’s a guy sitting in his seat in class. Guess who it is! That’s right: Steve Rogers.Bucky didn’t think he’d be so attracted to his enemy if he ever got one, but here he is. Steve just looks so good bending over to tie his shoe right where Bucky is walking. Bucky’s become an expert at schooling his face into a glare when Steve catches him looking.Bucky doesn’t know why Steve’s so set on ruining his days. But he’s not gonna let it get to him. That would be letting Stevewin.





	1. Prologue - Steve

**Author's Note:**

> deceptivesoldier:  
> Hi everyone!  
> Before we get started I'd like to recognize the people that helped make this fic happen!
> 
> falcon_chill: One of my artists! Their art will be in chapter two of the fic, and I can't wait for you guys to see it! They've been an awesome help and I really enjoyed tossing ideas around! Thank you for everything!! 
> 
> sianimations: My second artist, who blessed me with two pieces. They brought me a lot of motivation to finish this story with cheerleading, and I appreciated it! I had so much fun with this!! Thank you!
> 
> entigral: My beta, who was immensely helpful into getting this story to what it is! They worked so quickly and so thoroughly. An absolute joy to work with!
> 
> Now here we go!

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/160184134@N06/45575804281/in/dateposted-public/)

Steve never thought anybody would actually contact him when he put the listing up. Or if people did, there would only be a couple.

Surprisingly, a lot of people want to hire Steve to inconvenience people they know. From annoying bosses and frenemies to best friends and significant others.

It was one of Steve’s last ditch efforts to make some money, because being a poor art student really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Late one night, Steve was scrolling through Tumblr when he came across one of those _Signs as Minor Inconveniences_ posts (his was setting his alarms for _pm_ instead of _am,_ in case anyone was wondering). Minor inconveniences can be some of the worst things ever, they’re annoying and they make people’s lives just _that much_ harder.

That isn’t to say there aren’t people Steve think deserved to experience some minor inconveniences, because he could think of several.

Which became the thought that started it all.

Following through on that, and making some _very_ 3am decisions, Steve opened Craigslist and put up a listing.

**ASSHOLE FOR HIRE**

**You know how annoying it is to have gravel in your shoe that you just can’t find?**

**Or to have woken up late and realized you set your alarms for _pm_ instead of _am_?**

**Minor inconveniences sure can make your day just that much worse.**

**Maybe someone you know deserves to have some deliberate minor inconveniences thrown at them.**

**Your professor who gave you a D on a paper you _should_ have gotten a C on, your neighbor who won’t quit it with the loud sex, your coworker leaving you with all the work while they slack off.  **

**Here’s the offer:**

**Contact me, and I’ll instigate some minor inconveniences.**

**From just a few, to constantly.**

**Nothing mean of course, but enough to annoy the hell out of them.**

Steve went to sleep and woke up the next day not thinking anything of the listing.

At least until he checked his email.

After sifting through various messages asking if he was a sex worker (Steve probably should have rethought the headline), he came across someone looking to hire Steve to mess with their slacker coworker. Steve set up a meeting.

Eventually, the listing got expanded publicity thanks to Steve’s roommate Natasha printing it out and pinning it up all over campus. There were so many responses that Steve had to bring Natasha in on the business. She had quirked her lips up in her subtle excitement. It was probably her plan anyway.

College kids _really_ want to mess with people they know.

Which is how Steve finds himself in a pizza shop, sitting across from Clint Barton, who looks a bit confused.

“I thought a redhead put up the posters. That it was her offer.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “That’s my roommate, we do this together. Anyway, you have someone you’d like to inconvenience?”

Clint doesn’t speak for awhile, so Steve takes a few bites of his pizza.

“...Yes. I’d like you to mess with my roommate. His name is Bucky. He… took my Nintendo DS and never gave it back.” Clint nods at his answer, as if deciding it’s a good one.

Steve shrugs, he’s not one to pry. “Okay, how long would you like me for?”

Clint takes a moment to think. He chuckles. “A month.”

“You want me to inconvenience your roommate? For the whole _month_?”

A month seems kind of drastic for something as small as not getting a Nintendo DS back, but Steve’s not the client. A month would get him some pretty good money. Maybe enough to buy those expensive pencils he’s been eyeing without feeling guilty. So, Steve leans forward and snatches another piece of pizza before leaning back and smirking.

The guy probably forgot the DS was ever Clint’s to begin with.

“So, a month. How often would you like me to make your best friend’s life a pain?”

Clint smirks. “I want him to know he’s being messed with.”

Steve grins.

__

When Steve leaves the pizza shop, he has a sheet of information about one James Buchanan Barnes, access to his and Clint’s apartment (provided Clint is there), and a whole lot of ideas.

Barnes is 20.

Third-year engineering major.

Taking mostly general education classes this semester, according to the copy of his schedule. Coincidentally, Steve’s taking one of the _same_ ones.

Drives a 2010 Honda Civic. Blue.

Hates country music.

“Bucky” Barnes doesn’t know it yet, but he’s about to have a very frustrating semester. And all because he didn’t give a Nintendo DS back to Clint.

_____


	2. Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky Barnes can’t stand Steve Rogers. 
> 
> Some philosopher guy Bucky learned about once said that _the only thing that is constant is change_ , and maybe that was true during his time in Ancient Greece, but that guy never witnessed Bucky’s hatred for Steve Rogers.

Bucky Barnes can’t stand Steve Rogers.

Some philosopher guy Bucky learned about once said that _the only thing that is constant is change_ , and maybe that was true during his time in Ancient Greece, but that guy never witnessed Bucky’s hatred for Steve Rogers. That is something that will remain constant; it sure as hell isn’t going to change. Bucky never expected or planned to dispel a philosopher’s theory without even trying, but hey, that guy can blame Steve.

Because really, everything that goes wrong can be directly traced back to Steven Grant Rogers. Bucky supposes that is another thing that remains constant. It’s been constant for three weeks, since the start of November. Poor philosopher guy. Bucky even thinks Steve _knows_ that everything traces back to him, because it would sure explain the shit-eating grin he looks at Bucky with every day. It’s a grin that haunts Bucky’s mind. And Bucky hates it.

Bucky hates the way Steve eats his chips so loudly in the lecture hall at 9 in the goddamn morning. He hates the way Steve’s giant goddamn shoulders press against Bucky’s because they have no place else to go during class. He hates how Steve parks his tiny blue Volkswagen bug (Steve doesn’t even fit in the damn car!!!!) so fucking close to _Bucky’s_ car that Bucky has to climb over the passenger side to get to the driver’s seat. Bucky hates how damn tight Steve’s shirts are and Bucky hates how his own fucking mouth wants to drool when Steve bends over Bucky’s legs to pick up the pencil he launched…wait.

The _point_ is, Bucky is not a fan of Steve. And if Bucky had just taken his stupid general education courses his first year of college, he wouldn’t have to deal with Steve or his stupid face at all. But since Freshman Bucky was a dumbass, he gets to deal with Steve three times a week in history lecture from nine in the morning to ten-thirty. And then again on Thursdays in discussion. Bucky feels like he sees Steve more than he sees his own damn roommate.

__

When Bucky walks into history discussion, there is someone sitting in his seat. To the shock of absolutely nobody, it’s Steve Rogers. He hasn’t noticed Bucky come in yet, so Bucky takes a second to glare at him. To glare at the way he’s just casually sitting in that seat, as if Bucky hasn’t been sitting there for the whole fucking semester or anything. For two and a half months straight now. Honestly, it’s college common courtesy—seats might not be assigned like they were in high school, but the seat people are sitting in on the last class of the first week in the semester is _their_ permanent seat. There’s no switching around, because that could throw off the whole balance. People are _used_ to the direction they have to look at the TA.  

And this class was perfect. Nobody is sitting directly next to anyone, with the exception of the few freshmen who signed up for classes with their friend. Everyone else has a desk to themselves.

Steve apparently has no fucks to give for college courtesy.

Technically, Bucky can just go and take the seat at the desk Steve usually sits in and it wouldn’t be a big deal. Only today, Bucky doesn’t want to give Steve the satisfaction of making Bucky move to some other desk. No, today Bucky is going to sit _right_ next to Steve.

Suddenly determined, Bucky walks over to Steve’s desk and and sits down as loudly and obnoxiously as he can. Steve startles and slams the notebook he was doodling in shut, like a kid trying to hide something from his parents, obviously not having expected anybody to sit next to him. He looks at Bucky, apparently surprised to see him there.

Bucky narrows his eyes at him and crosses his arms over his chest. Not budging.

After a moment, Steve settles back into his chair and his lips stretch into a smirk, which Bucky does _not_ watch.

“Hiya, Buck,” Steve says cheerfully.

“You gonna move your stuff?” Bucky nods over to Steve’s backpack, which is resting on what is now Bucky’s side of the desk. Steve chuckles, pulling the backpack off the table and setting it on the floor.

“Y’know, the view of the classroom really is much better from this desk. From this seat. Looks like you had the right idea sitting here,” Steve says.

“Must be why I sit there every class then,” Bucky mutters. “Why did _you_ suddenly decide to change seats?”

“Felt like it.”

Bucky scoffs, because Steve is a douche. He knows that there’s really no point in getting all worked up over his seat being stolen, but this has been going on all damn month. His literal first impression of Steve was when the guy swooped in and stole the parking space Bucky was waiting for. They were in a parking garage, so Steve really had to make an effort to steal that spot. Bucky had his turn signal on and everything, so it was clear that spot was claimed.

Bucky had excused it at the time, because he understands oversleeping and needing to rush. He found a parking spot somewhere else. No big deal.

But then, Bucky learned that Steve was in his history class when he came in the same morning with a family sized bag of chips and sat down right next to Bucky. And yeah, his chip eating might have been annoying, but it wasn’t anything to get upset over. People eat in class, it’s just a thing. Bucky had thought Steve seemed nice enough. Except Bucky soon learned he wasn’t. At all.

It started with gravel in the shoe that Bucky couldn’t find no matter what he did. Steve had suspiciously bent down to clean up spilled chips from the floor, and Bucky knows it was then that he planted the gravel in his shoe. And then it just kept on escalating. Steve has managed to make Bucky’s day’s just that much more infuriating ever since he met him. So yeah, taking Bucky’s chair isn’t that big of a deal in and of itself, but combined with the rest of Steve’s shit, it’s frustrating.

“I heard we had a quiz today,” Steve says casually.

“It’s _discussion_. There are no quizzes in a discussion class,” Bucky says. All the exams are taken during the lecture course, and it’s more than halfway through the semester and they’ve never had a quiz before. Steve is just trying to make Bucky _think_ they have a quiz.

Sure of himself, Bucky settles back into his chair. The TA rushes in a few minutes after class was supposed to start, rambling about how bloody awful campus traffic is. Which, naturally prompts a few of the teachers pets—freshmen who _live on campus_ —to give long stories about how one time they too were stuck in traffic. Bucky tunes them out and notices Steve scribbling furiously in his notebook.

Bucky figured that Steve was always taking super detailed notes during class, but Bucky looks down at the notebook and sees him working on a page covered in doodles of random things. He’s currently sketching out a pair of lips, which Bucky would think look like his own if he didn’t know any better. Steve wouldn’t be drawing Bucky’s lips. Steve hates Bucky.

Shrugging it off, Bucky tunes back into the lecture. He mostly sits back and listens to the discussion, but there’s a nagging thought in the back of his mind going _what_ if _there_ is _a quiz today?_ The thought stays with him all throughout the discussion, causing a faint sense of anxiety to develop. He didn’t study.

Steve scoots his chair closer to Bucky’s. He is now taking up the majority of the desk, and his giant-ass shoulder is pressing against Bucky’s. Stubbornly, Bucky decides he’s going to fight for his half of the desk, so he obnoxiously leans into Steve, digging his own shoulder into him.

All Steve does is chuckle.

It’s ten minutes to the end of class, and only then does Bucky accept that there’s no way in hell there’s a quiz. Steve was fucking with him like he always does. Bucky is already starting to feel himself get angry at Steve again.

“Alright, I told you last week that there’d be a small quiz before you could leave today,” Ms. Carter says, pulling Bucky right out of his thoughts. He blinks several times in surprise when he sees her pass out half sheets of paper.

“Fuck. There _is_ a quiz,” Bucky mutters.

“You should learn to listen to me every once in awhile. I might just keep saying some pretty useful things,” Steve snarks, his lips upturned in his signature smirk. Bucky wants to get it off his face. Maybe with a kiss. Or… a slap. Something like that.

Bucky is relieved when the quiz contains no actual history questions. Just something to serve as an attendance grade.

__

Bucky drops his plate of food onto the lunch table with no finesse at all. His fries spread all over the place, but Bucky doesn’t really notice. Across from him, Clint is lovingly caressing his two venti cups of coffee while shooting an offended look at Bucky. Even the coffee cups seem to be judging him.

“You do not deserve nice things. Especially not nice food. Treat your loved ones with respect.”

Bucky levels Clint with a glare. Clint sighs, as if what he is about to say is the most regrettable thing he’s ever going to say in his life.

“You’ve got a single minute. _One_ , Barnes.”

Immediately, Bucky pounces. “He took my seat today! You know how I spend the first class of every semester determining what the best seat at the best desk is? Well today, he took it! And I wasn’t going to move to another desk, because that would let him know that it bothered me, so I just went ahead and sat right next to him. And then he was all casually in that rumbly voice of his: _hey Buck, there’s a quiz today_. And I thought he was yanking my chain, but still I was all paranoid throughout class because like, what if he was right? And then.” Bucky pauses for dramatic effect. “There _was_ a quiz!”

For a moment, Clint looks deeply amused, almost like he is enjoying Bucky’s misfortune. Until his expression morphs into one of confusion.

“Wait. So all that happened is that you sat next to the guy you want to smash faces with, and then he told you there was a quiz, which there was, and you wouldn’t have known otherwise?”

Well, when Clint puts it like that, it sounds stupid.

“I don’t want to smash faces with him,” Bucky says mulishly. Clint now levels Bucky with a look. “We’re _enemies_. And he knew that I’d think he was messing with me! It’s reverse psychology, Clint.”

“I think you’re making something out of nothing.”

“You’re the worst friend in the world,” Bucky says and angrily shoves a roll of sushi into his mouth.

“Hey now, if that were true, I would be trying to tell you that sushi and fries is a weird food combination. But no, I let you eat your weird food in peace. Speaking of food, I’m thinking about applying to work at the campus cafeteria.”

“You’d be terrible working there. You’d spend your shifts taste testing all the food.”

“I would not,” Clint says indignantly.

“Clint, I’ve known you since middle school. So I know that you definitely would.”

As they argue, Bucky starts to feel warm from the sense of someone staring at him. He looks around the cafeteria, and sees exactly who he suspected: the strange redhead. Several times this semester, he’s caught her just staring at Bucky, looking supremely amused. Which could make sense if Bucky knew her. But Bucky has never seen her before in his life. Not in elementary school class, not as a neighbor, nothing. He has no idea who this girl is, or why he keeps seeing her around.

“Clint, the redhead is staring at me again.”

Immediately, Clint is craning his neck around to look. “The scary hot one? Where?”

“Clint!” Bucky buries his head into his hands when Clint finds who he’s looking for. He knows Clint made it obvious they were looking at her, because he has zero sense of stealth.

“She’s looking at me this time! Maybe she doesn’t actually have a crush on you,” Clint muses.

Bucky peeks at him through his fingers. “I _don’t_ think she has a crush on me. I think she’s here to witness some kind of impending misfortune. Which is why she always looks so damn amused. Maybe she’s plotting to kill me. That would be pretty unfortunate.”

“I could ask her,” Clint says—obviously having been waiting for any excuse to talk to her—and starts to get up. Quickly, Bucky grabs at his arm, and takes one of his coffee cups for good measure. As expected, Clint sits right back down. He takes his coffee back, and looks around the room again. He looks disappointed.

“She’s gone.”

“Good, it looks like I’m going to live another day.”

Clint rolls his eyes, and his eyes must catch on the cafeteria’s clock. “Oh _shit_ , my class started already.”

Bucky reaches over and takes one of the coffee cups Clint leaves in his haste to leave.

__

_Steve Rogers has sent you a friend request!_

Bucky continues staring at the request like he has been since it pinged him—six minutes ago. It makes no sense. Why would Steve send him a friend request? They aren’t friends, so it makes no sense for him to send a friend request. Who’s even on Facebook anymore anyway?

Steve, apparently. Seeing as he’s just sent a friend request to Bucky. The guy who fucks with him during history class everyday. And not in the fun way.

“What’re you staring at? Your face looks like mine in stats class. I thought you were good at math,” Clint says, breaking Bucky from his repetitive thoughts.

“Uh. I _am_ good at math.” Because really? Bucky had to address that first. “But no, I’m looking at a friend request.”

“From who? Your grandma? Only relatives are on Facebook,” Clint chuckles, and then he pauses. “Unless it’s from someone you don’t even know. I still get those.”

“No, it’s from Steve.”

“Steve. I thought he was trying to ruin your life. Or something.”

“He is! It doesn’t make sense!”

“I think you’re thinking too hard about this,” Clint says.

Bucky huffs and shuts his phone off, leaving the request unanswered. That’ll show Steve—he’s just gonna have to sit there and wonder if Bucky’s ever gonna accept or decline his request. Maybe he’ll keep checking his Facebook to see if the request ever gets an answer. Bucky has no idea what Steve wanted from the friend request, but he’s sure Steve never expected Bucky to leave him unanswered.

Resolved, Bucky settles back into the couch and glances over at Clint, whose legs are trapped by 70 pounds of dog.

“Aren’t your legs asleep?”

Clint just smiles and pats at Lucky’s head.

__

Later that night, Bucky is staring at Steve’s friend request. Again.

It’s been seven hours since it came in, and Bucky hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. He’s thought about what it might mean if he accepted it—would Steve stop messing with him in class?—and what it would mean if he declined it, or even just left it unanswered forever.

Belatedly, he clicks into Steve’s profile. His profile picture is this really lame selfie where he’s pretending a paintbrush is a mustache, and Bucky finds it endearing despite himself. Other than that, Bucky isn’t able to see much else because Steve has his profile on private. Meaning if Bucky wants to really stalk him, he’ll need to accept the request.

Clicking back to the request, Bucky sighs and feels indecision weigh on him. He should be sleeping and not looking at Facebook. Steve already pushes himself into Bucky’s life in class, there’s no reason for him to be doing it on outdated social media too.

And then, Bucky realizes something.

Steve probably sent the request _knowing_ and _hoping_ Bucky was going to spend a whole bunch of time wrestling over what to do. Probably having a good ol’ laugh over the thought of Bucky staring at _accept or decline_ and not knowing what to do like the jerk he is.

With that realization in mind, Bucky taps _accept_ with gusto. Poor sad Steve, not getting to have any prolonged fun over this friend request.

__

_Steve Rogers has invited you to play Farmville!_

__

_Steve Rogers invites you to play Treasure Isle!_

When Bucky gets back to his apartment building one afternoon, he notices a familiar blue Volkswagen in the parking garage. Bucky does a double take, because that car would mean Steve is here. Bucky has seen that car enough times to recognize it, especially given Steve’s licence plate: VROOM. As if the Volkswagen bug is a fast car.

Bucky shakes his head out in an attempt to clear it. It isn’t like Steve’s here for Bucky, because Bucky’s never mentioned where he lives. Still, he feels like he’s starting to see Steve or things that remind him of Steve everywhere he goes. Kind of like when you get a new crush and everything starts reminding you of them. Except with an enemy this time.

As he heads to the elevator he unwillingly finds his thoughts dwelling on Steve. It truly is a sad thing that all of the pretty boys end up being jerks. It’s such a waste. Although, Bucky supposes it lines up in a weird sort of way. The hotter they are, the douchier. And Steve is as douchey as they come.Bucky will just have to refocus all of these distracting thoughts into visualizing Steve’s muscles in the parade of too-small, tight-fitting shirts he wears all the time.

It’s a great way to pass the the elevator ride up to his floor, but when the elevator doors open, Bucky comes face to face with the man himself. On _Bucky’s_ floor. _Speak of the devil, indeed._ Steve grins, as if seeing Bucky on the elevator is the equivalent of getting a puppy on Christmas.

He looks hot. He’s wearing one of the tiny Tshirts Bucky was just thinking about. It’s blue. It might even match his eyes.

“Heya, Buck,” Steve says cheerfully.

“Are you here to see me?” Bucky’s mouth blurts. He shuts it abruptly, which makes Steve chuckle.

“How would I know you lived here, Buck?”

What is _Buck_. A nickname for his nickname, because of course Steve has to be contrary with Bucky’s own _name_. Ignoring the way his cheeks are heating up with a blush, Bucky does his best to shrug it off.

“I dunno, it’s probably on the internet somewhere,” he tries, even though he knows that’s bullshit. Steve knows it’s bullshit. Bucky squints, waiting to see if Steve’s going to acknowledge it.

“Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you.”

Bucky is about to reply when the elevator interrupts him with a high-pitched beeping sound, angry that Bucky has been standing in the way of the doors for too long. Awkwardly, Bucky shuffles out and attempts to hide his spreading blush with a glare. Given Steve’s amused smile, it doesn’t work.

“Anyways, I’ve gotta get going. Things to do, people to see and all that,” Steve says with a wink.

“Days to ruin,” Bucky chimes in, just to be a jerk.

Steve barks a laugh. “Bye Buck, have a good day.”

Bucky blinks, and steps out of the way so Steve can call the elevator again. The doors open immediately, meaning the elevator never went anywhere and had no reason to beep angrily at Bucky. It is only after the elevator doors close and take Steve away that Bucky stops standing around like an idiot.

What a strange encounter.

He decides to shrug it off, because Steve probably has a friend or something on this floor. Maybe a fellow classmate or something he’s working on something with. Bucky has learned over half this semester not to try and figure out anything Steve does.

Bucky unlocks his apartment door to find Lucky nosing sadly at an empty box of pizza, which is in between two empty paper plates on the coffee table. Clint is laying on the couch, not even bothering to look up at Bucky’s entrance.

“Did you waste a plate to feed pizza to Lucky?” Bucky asks. The dog in question takes his nose out from the pizza box and trots over to Bucky, having heard his name and the word pizza in the same sentence. Bucky pats his head.

“Uhh.” Clint sits up and looks down at the coffee table. “Oh! Yeah, yes. The plate was for _Lucky_. I’m uh, trying to get him to be neater when he eats.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows in surprise, because he remembers just last month seeing Clint with a face covered in spaghetti sauce.

“I guess one of you should probably learn.” Bucky closes the pizza box, causing Lucky to whine, and then Bucky notices where the pizza is from. “I thought you said you would rather eat those hockey puck frozen pizzas than eat Pizza Shoppe.”

Clint blinks at Bucky, as if processing what he just said. “Yes. But I don’t turn down a free pizza.”

“You got a free pizza?” Bucky asks

“...Yes...somebody gave me a coupon.” Clint looks oddly pleased with his answer.

Bucky furrows his brows, because Clint is acting cagey about pizza, but who knows what goes on in that head?  And why, he thinks to himself, is he getting all worked up over it?

__

_Steve Rogers wants you to play Tetris Battle!_

The alarm clock blares.

WIthout bothering to look at it, Bucky swats/flails at the nightstand until at last, he hits the _off_ button and the room goes back to peaceful silence. He allows himself only a couple of blessed seconds to continue laying around, and then sits up.

He’s still in that half-asleep and warm state where everything is slow moving, at least until he takes a look at his clock.

It’s _twenty minutes_ after he was supposed to be up.

“Oh shit!” Bucky—suddenly wide awake—whirls out of bed and hustles towards the bathroom and then _of course_ he jams his pinkie toe into the leg of the dresser. Immediately, Bucky is hopping around on the other foot. “ _Fuck_!”

He hops into the bathroom, messily shoots out a glob of toothpaste onto his toothbrush, and jams it into his mouth. He’s never had to rush a day in his life before. He’s never been late or even almost late for anything. Bucky sets his alarm well before he actually needs to be awake, so why in the hell did he wake up so late?

He thinks it’s because of Steve.

The other part of Bucky’s brain is already bored, but it makes a twisted sort of sense! It wasn’t until this month that Bucky was ever late. The _only_ semester he’s ever met and shared a class with Steve Rogers, who has made it his mission to ruin Bucky’s life. It makes sense that somehow Steve would start managing to fuck Bucky up without even being around.

Grumbling angrily, Bucky throws his hair back into a messy bun that he has to redo twice, and then stomps out of the bathroom. His hip collides with the corner of the _same_ dresser he jammed his toe in. Bucky freezes for a moment, letting out a whine because _damn_ that hurts.

No more time. Bucky glances over at the clock. He just wasted seven minutes on hygiene and hair. He needed to be gone _yesterday_ if he wants to get a parking space, so like a dumbass, Bucky stands in place and weighs his options.

Real clothes.

Or better chance of parking spot.

Bucky looks down at the white t-shirt and plaid sweatpants he slept in. It’ll have to do. He hates fulfilling this college student stereotype, but he’ll just have to live with it for today..

Rushing once again, Bucky puts on a pair of sandals despite the cold outside, grabs his bag and wallet, and hurries out the door.

When he gets to the parking garage on campus, he only has fifteen minutes to get to class. Bucky does a quick drive through the four levels of the parking garage, and when he sees a whopping zero parking spaces open, Bucky resigns himself to his fate and parks on the level one ramp.

The pay-to-park ramp.

Bucky kisses the $4.50 for the parking spot goodbye, and he starts belting towards the history building, which is of course on the opposite end of _the world_ compared to the fucking parking garage, because such is life.

__

When Bucky gets to the lecture hall, he glances over to where he normally sits and is half-way surprised to see his usual seat still vacant. He figured with class having already started ten minutes ago, a seat on an aisle and in a good spot in relation to the screen would have been taken. As quietly but as quickly as he can, Bucky makes it down to his seat. When he sits, Steve glances up at him and smiles a stupid crooked smile.

“Hi Buck. Thought you mighta ditched today.”

Bucky glares. “I do not _ditch_. I got here, despite waking up late and being _rushed_.”

The freshman in front of them turns around and glares daggers at Bucky. Bucky glares daggers right back because he is not in the mood.

Steve chuckles. “I know that feeling.”

It’s nice of Steve to notice. Strange, but nice. Regardless, Bucky chooses not to address that and instead tunes back into the lecture and tries to catch up to whatever Phillips is going on about.

After class, Bucky is walking along the campus loop path when he gets a text.

**From: clint / 11:14am**

**guess who forgot to bring the paper he left laying on his nightstand to campus today?**

Bucky rolls his eyes, and starts typing away about where the campus mobile printers are when his legs collide with something and sends him falling forwards onto the obstacle. The obstacle being the back of one Steve Rogers.

Bucky rolls off of Steve and onto the pavement. After a moment, he realizes he dropped his phone. When Bucky sees it face down on the pavement, he closes his eyes, exhales. He moves to pick it up, but Steve’s already got it. Embarrassed, he hands it down to Bucky. Bucky takes it back slowly, and feels immense relief when he sees there are no cracks in the screen. Thank fuck. Turning his attention back up to Steve, Bucky glares, because seriously? Steve couldn’t be crouched over doing whatever some place that _isn’t_ the walkway?!

“What the hell?”

Steve looks sheepish. “I’m sorry, Buck. I was tying my shoe.”

Looking down, Bucky half expects to see Steve wearing sandals or some other shoe that would make his statement a lie, but nope. Steve is wearing sneakers—one shoe untied.

“Move out of the way!” Bucky turns his head towards the unfamiliar voice yelling at him, and oh. It’s a girl on a bicycle, and Bucky is sitting on his ass in the bike lane. Bucky scoots to the other side of the solid white line.

“Tying your shoe? Right where I was walking? What a fucking coincidence,” Bucky scoffs.

“How was I supposed to see you were walking behind me? Usually if someone is crouched down doing something, you’re supposed to walk _around_ them,” Steve says, smirking like he’s never been more amused in his entire life. He then offers his hand out to Bucky.

Bucky raises an eyebrow, but he takes the hand and lets Steve pull him up. He swipes at the pavement dust on his pants.

“Well next time, maybe you _should_ look behind yourself. Or y’know, double-knot your laces so this doesn’t happen.”

Steve makes a disgusted face and shakes his head. “Nope, I’m good. Gonna keep single-knotting those laces. Thanks for that advice though!”

Bucky scowls.

“Gotta get to class. See ya in history!” Steve walks off, and Bucky loses sight of him to a large crowd of students walking.

Bucky turns on his heel and starts walking in the opposite direction. He’s completely forgotten about Clint and his paper problem until his phone buzzes again in his hand.

**From: clint / 11:27am**

**nvm all good the paper isn’t due today**

—

Later that afternoon, Bucky trips while walking up the stairs.

He lands right on his knees, and he actually watches as his large iced coffee goes toppling down onto the stairs. The lid comes off, and there is now creamy iced coffee dripping down at least five steps, and seeping into Bucky’s shirt and pants. He stands up and sadly stares down at the spilled coffee, because he was really looking forward to drinking that.

Luckily for him, the building is empty. Classes aren’t going to get out for another fifteen minutes so the stairwell is totally clear. Meaning that nobody is around who would have seen Bucky have his second inconvenience of the day. Well, except maybe Steve. Steve is the one who causes Bucky’s problems, so he probably put some sort of goo on these stairs. Though still slippery, it might have worn down from other students over time, but unluckily for Bucky there was just enough left to cause a slip. Yeah, that’s definitely it.

Only when Bucky turns around, Steve isn’t there grinning happily at Bucky’s misfortune. No, instead it’s the redhead Bucky keeps seeing. The one whose name he doesn’t even know. She’s got her arms crossed and a leg kicked out to the side, and she’s smirking at Bucky.

“I’m guessing you just saw that?” Bucky asks, resigned.

Her smirk widens. “The whole damn thing.”

Bucky nods. “Of course you did. Just my luck.”

The girl shrugs, turns around, and starts walking away. Bucky blinks after her.

“Okay, bye? I guess?”

Bucky turns back to his spilled coffee and picks up the cup. Then he starts picking up the scattered pieces of ice all along the stairs and throws _them_ into the now-empty coffee cup. He hears footsteps, and someone starts walking up the stairs. Bucky sighs, willing patience to start flowing through him.

“There’s _coffee_ all over the stairs.” He figures he shouldn’t let Steve’s bad juju spread to anyone else.

“I know, I saw you drop it.” A hand sticks out in Bucky’s peripheral vision with a large wad of paper towels. Bucky blinks at them in surprise. He honestly thought she had just left.

Bucky takes the towels and starts setting them all where he sees coffee. The coffee is absorbed, leaving the paper towels now light brown and sopping wet. Bucky sighs, and starts picking them all back up. Eventually, the only sign that Bucky ever fell and dropped his coffee is the slight sticky residue left behind, but Bucky deems it close enough.

The redhead brings a trash bin to the bottom of the stairs for Bucky to toss the wet towels in, and when it’s all finished, she smirks at him.

“Well. Gotta get to class. I hope you don’t experience any more inconveniences,” she says. There’s a strange glint in her eye, but she’s too far away for Bucky to even be able to figure out what kind of glint.

Shaking his head, Bucky picks up his bag and makes it up the stairs for class.

__

When Bucky gets to his car later that afternoon, he’s exhausted. It’s been awhile since he’s truly felt every inconvenience a day has brought him, but today was just one of the bad ones. He thinks that being rushed and running into everything this morning just set the bar low, causing everything that followed to frustrate him just _that_ much more. And finally, the day is finished. Bucky plans to go home and do a whole lot of nothing for the rest of the day. It’s Friday—he deserves it.

Knowing that relief will soon be at his grasp, just the sight of Steve Rogers leaning on the side of his Volkswagen is enough to send Bucky right back into annoyance. He’s looking at something on his phone, and didn’t even notice Bucky walk up.

Bucky stops at the side of his own car and takes a moment to look from his car, to Steve’s, and then to the amount of space between their cars. In true dramatic fashion, Bucky throws his hands up in the air out of pure frustration. Because _of course_ there is no space for Bucky to get into his car. Moreover, his and Steve’s cars are the only ones in this entire floor of the garage, which means Steve must have deliberately chose to park next to Bucky. He stands there for a moment and debates just climbing through the passenger side door of his car like he’s done before and just ignoring Steve completely, but after the way the day has gone, Bucky decides that he’s _not_ going to do that. Not this time.

“Steve.”

Steve turns around and smiles. “Hey, Bucky. What’s up?”

Bucky gestures between their cars, even though he’s sure Steve’s already aware. “I can’t get into my car because you’re parked so damn close.”

“Oh, sorry. I guess I don’t really pay attention to my parking with this thing because it’s so small,” Steve chuckles, showing absolutely no signs of moving.

Bucky sighs tiredly. “Are you going to move your car?”

Apparently not, because Steve chooses instead to cross his arms on the roof of his car and rest his head on them, a twinkle in his eyes.

“I dunno, it’s pretty hot when you’re all annoyed at me.”

“I guess I’m pretty hot all the time then,” Bucky says crankily, “Gonna move your car?”

Steve shrugs, the nonchalant look ruined with his big grin. “I suppose so. Wouldn’t want to keep you from any weekend plans. Sorry for parking so close.”

Bucky doesn’t answer because the only plans he has this weekend are with his homework, and that is absolutely nothing to brag about. He waits by his car as Steve opens his and squeezes himself inside that tiny car. He turns the car on and immediately switches from park to reverse and essentially floors it out of that parking spot. Without even taking the time to look behind him. Bucky blinks in surprise before walking around his car and getting in.

Steve pulls back in so Bucky can back out, and he gives Bucky a dorky little wave as he does so.

__

_You have an invite from Steve Rogers to play Lucky Slots!_

Saturday morning finds Bucky laying on his bed with a pile of notes for writing his paper next to him as he plays Mario Kart on his Nintendo DS. As great as the Wii version of the game is, it’s never going to beat the DS. Over the years he’s lost a few of the games he had (they’re small, okay?), but he’s managed to keep track of the important ones. He doesn’t play the DS often—it mostly lives in a drawer—but sometimes procrastination draws him to play it.

The sound of the door opening startles Bucky enough to cause him to drive straight into the lava of Bowser’s Castle. He pauses the game and looks up to see Clint, who doesn’t look all that happy.

“You okay?”

Clint blinks a few times and shakes his head. “Yeah, fine. I was going to head to the library to get some things done. Wondered if you wanted to come?”

Bucky snaps the DS shut and turns it off. “Nope, let’s go. I have a paper I need to write.”

When they get to the library, Clint leads them to one of the long tables with the roller chairs. They settle in and spread all their things across the table. Clint breaks out his giant pair of purple headphones and gets working on what looks to be some statistics work. Bucky starts searching various databases for anything and everything having to do with whether the ending of the 1800s London cholera epidemic was actually impactful in stopping the disease.

Naturally, he can find articles that touch on the topic, but nothing that speaks directly on what he needs.

Bucky is almost resigned to using the only slightly relevant articles he’s found, until he finds a list of books that are actually in the library itself. Lo and behold, there’s a book that is essentially the perfect source for his paper. Sighing, Bucky looks up its call number and writes it down, tearing that corner off the sheet. He gets up to go and find it, hoping it’ll be in the right place. Since Clint probably won’t even notice he’s gone, Bucky doesn’t bother to tell him where he’s going.

Surprisingly even with his two and a half years of time spent at this school now, this is the first time Bucky’s gone to check out a book from the library. He figured that after having so many Library Days during elementary school he’d simply just remember how to find a book, but apparently that assumption is wrong.

He’s on the third floor of the library already and still, Bucky hasn’t been able to find the damn book. He huffs and clenches his jaw. Looking for this book is eating into his writing time. Bucky is walking through one of the aisles and thinking giving up on the book to start writing when he starts seeing call numbers similar to the one he’s looking for.

Bucky furrows his brows and looks back and forth between what he wrote down and the set of books in front of him, which is various sets of huge encyclopedias.

“Well, it’s apparently here somewhere,” Bucky mutters and starts looking.

He’s crouched down and looking at one of the lower shelves when he sees an arm in his peripheral vision. Bucky ignores it and the person that’s apparently behind him, just going ahead and looking for his book. And there, the last book on the shelf is the one he is looking for. Bucky reaches up to start pulling it out at the same time every single damn book on the shelf tips over and crashes in the few inches of space left at the end of the shelf.

Bucky stares at his book now underneath a pile of encyclopedias, and feels himself getting frustrated.

“Whoops, my bad.”

“I don’t even know why I didn’t think it wasn’t you behind me.” Bucky snatches his book from underneath the encyclopedias and stands up. “Do you have a GPS tracker on me or something? Do you just go _oh, Bucky is at the library! I haven’t made his day harder yet and there’s no time like the present_! Or maybe it’s just in your nature and you just form many enemy…ships. With people.”

Bucky deflates on the last word, but Steve was chuckling through it the whole time. He seems fucking _amused_ that Bucky is mad at him.

“I thought we established once that I wasn’t a stalker. And besides, this is the _campus_ library. I’m a student, so it stands to reason that one day I would venture in here.”

Bucky glares. “I don’t need you to explain the library to me, Rogers.”

Steve puts his hands up in surrender.

“Just… don’t let all the books fall over when you take one out. Especially when someone else is looking at the same fucking shelf,” Bucky says tiredly, and then starts his way towards the elevator.

“Maybe I didn’t know they were going to fall, because _maybe_ I was shit at physics. I could be totally innocent here,” Steve says from just behind him. Bucky sighs.

“You know the phrase that says _once is chance, twice is a coincidence, and three times is a pattern_? I stopped believing there was any innocence to you after the third time something happened that annoyed the hell out of me while you were around. The time one of the caps on my chair just _magically_ came off after I got back from the bathroom in discussion class. Plus you always have this twinkle in your eyes that says you know exactly what you’re doing.” They step onto the elevator when the doors open and Bucky presses the button for his study floor. Steve doesn’t press a button.

“Been looking into my eyes then huh?”

“Contrary to popular opinion, bad flirting doesn’t rile me up the way gravel in my shoe does.”

“Gravel in your shoe gets you riled up? That’s a new one. I’ll have to remember that.”

Bucky feels his cheeks heat up. “I didn’t say—You know what I meant.”

Finally, the elevator doors open and Bucky quickly steps off. He turns around, expecting for Steve to be right behind him with some kind of comeback, but instead sees Steve still in the elevator. Bucky raises an eyebrow in question.

“Coming?”

“Oh, I’m not studying down here. I’m on the third floor. I’ll see ya around, Buck,” Steve says with a wink as the elevator doors close again. Did...did Steve just ride down the elevator with him for absolutely no reason? Why did he willingly ride in an elevator with his enemy. Still slightly confused, Bucky clutches at his book and heads back to the table.

__

“You’re back! Honestly I kind of thought maybe you fell asleep somewhere in the library. There are a lot of great napping spots around here. Or maybe you ditched and went home with someone. I kinda hoped that maybe you went out to get food and coffee until I realized your wallet was still here. Where’d you go?” Clint pauses looks at him speculatively. “Wait. That’s your _I just saw Steve Rogers_ face. Which kind of looks a bit like constipation mixed with lust. Honestly it’s a weird expression.”

“I think you’re having trouble with identifying expressions. I guess I can give you constipation, but the other feeling is confusion. Not lust.”

“Did the big bad Steve annoy Buck-Buck again?” Clint asks.

“Yes. And then he rode in the elevator with me even though he wasn’t even going to this floor!”

Clint looks surprised, which Bucky gets. This isn’t Steve’s usual MO. “And this… annoys you?”

Bucky considers this for a moment. “Yes.”

Clint hums, which is a bit odd. “Well I’m going back in, I’m hoping to finish this before the library closes tonight.”

Clint puts his headphones on and Bucky blinks at him. What an abrupt ending to the conversation. He shrugs  it off and opens his book to the first page.

__

_Steve Rogers wants you to play FishVille!_

Bucky is back in the library, scanning everywhere and hoping to see an empty table for him to study at. He’s got a quiz tomorrow and he needs to study. Unfortunately, every table and chair is occupied thanks to the looming cloud that is finals.

Bucky continues looking around as he walks, when he sees the redhead and a guy Bucky doesn’t recognize leaving one of the private study rooms. It’s one of the ones that need to be reserved, but Bucky figures he can duck in there real quick and study until the next group of people come. He opens the door expecting it to be empty, but instead sees Clint erasing a whiteboard.

“Clint?”

Clint looks back at Bucky, curses under his breath, and then quickly erases the rest of what was written on the whiteboard.

“Um, do you have a big project or something? With the redhead and that guy?”

Clint squints. “A redhead? I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

Bucky furrows his brows and leans out of the room to squint after the redhead and the guy. “They just left this room?”

Clint’s face clears. “Oh! Yes. That redhead. Um, yes. We are working on something together.”

“I thought you didn’t know her? I figured you wouldn’t be able to shut up about it if you did.” At least based on the mega-watt crush Clint has on her.

Clint shrugs. “We are… working on a student function together. I didn’t take the job at the school cafeteria, so I… thought I’d take one with the student Union. I guess she did too. Her name is Natasha.”

“Okay.... Maybe you can ask her why she’s always staring at me around campus.” He squints at Clint, but there’s not enough time in the world to untangle that brain. He shrugs to himself.  “Do you have this room reserved still? I have a test.”

Clint heaves a huge sigh, and then he smiles. “Yeah, I’ve got it for another hour.”

__

_You have an invite from Steve Rogers to play Angry Birds Friends!_

Lucky is hiding from Bucky. He’s doing his absolute best to become one with the wall that’s behind the recliner. He occasionally lets out high-pitched whimpers, and Bucky feels like the biggest piece of shit on earth.

“C’mon Lucky, you know I’d never step on your tail on purpose! It’s just that you were laying down on the floor right in front of my door! Right where my feet were going!” Bucky cringes at himself. Putting the blame on Lucky is not the way to make this right. Based on the _seriously?_ look that Lucky shoots him, the dog agrees.

“Can’t we come to a compromise? That maybe you leave your ears on while you sleep so you can hear footsteps, and that I pay attention to where I’m walking?”

Lucky whines again, and Bucky guesses that means he vetoes. The huge mass of guilt continues to devour Bucky’s whole being, because hurting a pet is one of the absolute worst things you can do.

Lucky was just sleeping. He was at peace with the world. And then Bucky came in with his stupid tennis shoes and stepped on the dog’s tail. He yanked his foot away upon hearing the cry Lucky let out as he scrambled away, but the damage was done. Bucky betrayed him and Lucky is never gonna forgive him. If Lucky could understand all words, Bucky would be able to explain that it wasn’t on purpose and everything would be fine.

Alas, Lucky only understands a few words and Bucky doesn’t think he could explain that he didn’t mean to with the words _pizza_ , _nap_ , or _sit_.

That thought gives Bucky an idea. He could _buy_ Lucky’s forgiveness. There’s always leftover pizza in the fridge, so Bucky gets up looks inside. He sees all the usual fixings—beer, shredded cheese, coffee creamer, and avocados, but no telltale box of pizza leftovers. Bucky doesn’t see any ziplock bags with pizza inside. No pizza slices just chilling on the fridge counter itself. He opens the freezer hoping at least for some frozen pizza or at least some pizza bagels.

Nothing.

Bucky swears in all the years he’s known Clint, plus the two and a half years he’s spent as Clint’s roommate, there has never not been any pizza somewhere in the fridge. With Clint comes pizza, and there is no pizza.

So a couple hours later when Clint comes through the door, Bucky wastes no time before asking.

“Where’s the pizza?”

Clint stops, one hand on the door handle to shut it, the other pulling off his giant-ass purple headphones. “There’s no pizza?”

“None. Not even pizza flavored Pringles.”

Clint puts his headphones back on his head and steps backwards, right out the door. “I’m going to the store.”

Bucky settles back on the couch and looks over at Lucky, who is now sleeping in the same corner. Bucky sighs as the guilt makes itself right at home in the pit of Bucky’s stomach.

__

Clint returns with two arms full of bags of all things pizza from the grocery store. He sets them all haphazardly down onto the counter and then digs through them quickly, looking for something. Bucky watches curiously until Clint pulls out a familiar yellow box of pizza rolls. He makes a happy sound, rips the packaging open and then sticks the tray right into the microwave behind him.

“So. How did you let us run out of pizza?” Bucky asks.

“Uh, I’ve been busy with other things.”

Bucky raises one skeptical eyebrow.

“Anyways,” Clint says abruptly, “Have you seen the flyer for the campus dating thing?”

“The what?”

Clint reaches for his backpack on the floor, and pulls out a crumpled red flyer paper. He makes an attempt to smooth it out, and he hands it to Bucky as he walks over to the recliner with his pizza rolls in hand.

Bucky takes a look at the flyer and then glances over to Clint. “Okay two things. First, I thought we solidified the perfect way to avoid or get out of people trying to hand us flyers on campus last year. Second, our school has a dating service?” Clint is about to respond when Bucky jumps in again. “Actually three things. Third, why did you _keep_ it instead of throwing it into the next trashcan you walked by?”

“Okay listen, this is the student function I helped organize. Wasn’t my idea, but this guy, Sam, really had it all planned out and made it very hard to say no. What you do is fill out a profile and they match you with someone who’s profile matches up well enough with yours. And apparently, a lot of the people that go to this school are signed up already and—“

“And you signed up because Natasha signed up?” Bucky finishes.

Clint shakes his head. “Actually, no. I actually asked Natasha out and she said yes, so I don’t need to sign up for this.” Bucky blinks, because _what_?! “However, we need people to actually sign up, so...” Clint looks pleadingly at Bucky.

“Oh, hell no. I’m not signing up just so you can get better numbers.”

“Come on! It would be super good for you, and it’s at a boring part of the semester! You won’t be doing anything anyway! They’re going to be two weeks before finals week. Just before dead week. Classes will basically be over, it’s the perfect time.”

Bucky refrains from pointing out that that’s only two weeks away.

“Okay, okay. So you want me to do this.” Bucky summarizes. It is then that Lucky ventures out from his hidey corner and starts walking over towards the couch. Bucky watches with unblinking eyes as Lucky gives a hum, and then jumps onto the couch. He settles down where _Bucky’s legs are_. Lucky could have chosen Clint but he didn’t! This means—

“You need this.”

“Wait, what? I do not.”

“I’ve realized long, long ago that you want to bang Steve. You talk about the guy all the damn time and I’m an expert at reading _in between the lines_. So I’m deciding if you don’t want to bite the bullet and get banged by him, then you need to get with someone else. And you can do that with this date matchup thing!”

Bucky feels his cheeks heat up. “Even if I did need to get laid—“

“You do.”

“ _Anyway_ , then I could do it myself, I don’t need someone on campus to find me my supposed match.”

Clint shrugs. “I already put in your email. You probably already have a form to fill out in your inbox.”

Of course he did.

Clint hands Bucky the flyer.

“Just fill it out and then print it. Then some time this week stop by the Union and give it to Sam. The flyer tells you where to go. He’ll do the rest. Best to get in early before everyone else is already matched up!”

“You couldn’t come up with a better name than _College Connections_?”

Clint shrugs

Bucky maintains that the only reason he ends up doing it is because he doesn’t want to leave Clint hanging. Logically, he knows that nothing is going to come from this, but it’s still a _date_ , and Bucky hasn’t been on one of those for some time.

The form asks for Bucky’s preferences, what he looks for in both appearance and personality, and also asks for information about himself. His likes and dislikes of course and the type of relationship he’s looking for, among other things. Truthfully, it’s been quite some time since Bucky’s even thought about these kinds of things, so it takes him a bit of time to complete the profile.

After Bucky prints it out, he places it inside his backpack to drop off on campus tomorrow. Apparently he’s going to have a date in a few weeks.

__

_Steve Rogers has invited you to play Cookie Jam!_

When getting ready for class in the morning, Bucky jams his little toe no less than four times into the leg of his desk. His hip collides with the sharp corner of that same desk twice—both entering and leaving the bathroom. He manages to trip over a box of tissues that was apparently on his floor.

Bucky should have figured that with all of that, he would end up having to park light years away due to his usual garage being full with cars. It takes him about fifteen minutes to walk to his history discussion class, when it usually only takes him seven.

The TA is just starting class when Bucky gets there. He quietly heads over to his seat and pulls out his notebook.

She’s going over the guidelines for the final term paper, which is to be written and turned in before the final exam that they will _also_ be taking. Luckily it’s pretty straightforward and is no more than a research paper. When Bucky steps out at their ten-minute class break he goes to the water fountain, hoping it’ll wake him up some. It doesn’t really, because the water is lukewarm and kind of tastes like a penny.

Bucky heads back into the classroom and takes his same place at the desk. The chair immediately teeters to the side with the additional weight. The telltale sign that one of the caps has been taken off of a chair leg.

“Steve.”

The Steve in question has been strangely quiet all day. No witty remarks, no sass, nothing. He’s been the picture of a normal college student: quiet and keeping to himself. Bucky’s been able to pay attention to the TA the whole class without any interruption. Honestly, the stealing of Bucky’s chair cap has brought some normalcy back into the day. The ground isn’t shifting below Bucky’s feet—

chair notwithstanding—and the world isn’t ending.

Steve closes his own notebook and turns around to face Bucky with a sweet smile. It somehow comes off as mischievous. “Buck.”

Bucky squints at him.

Contemplates.

“Never mind.”

Steve looks confused. Likely confused that Bucky didn’t accuse him for taking the chair cap and to be fair, Bucky is a bit confused at himself as well. He doesn’t let Steve off easily. This totally disrupts their established way of things. Still, Steve seems to shake off his confusion.

“Alright. Hey, what are you doing after class today?”

Bucky’s confusion grows, and he absolutely cannot explain the way his heart rate starts picking up. In addition to that, Bucky suddenly feels very awake right now. It was almost like an instantaneous flip. One second he was tired, the other he’s awake and alert.

“Um, what?”

Steve chuckles. “After class today.”

“I’ve got to go turn in this form to some guy at the union? My roommate is making me do the campus dating matchup thing.”

“Campus dating matchup thing?” Steve parrots. His eyebrows are pulled together and he doesn’t look quite as amused as he did before.

Bucky pulls out the crumpled flyer from his backpack and hands it over to Steve. His eyebrows release in understanding.

“Oh, I’m doing this too actually. My roommate brought out the big guns and persuaded me. She bribed me with hot chocolate..”

Bucky stares at Steve like he just dropped a bomb.

“Alright guys, let’s bring it back in,” Ms. Carter says. Steve turns around with the flyer still in hand, and class resumes. For the most part, it is just as normal as the first half of class. Only now, Bucky spends the entire time trying to keep his chair level. Which results in more taps on the floor than leaving it tilted probably would.

Oh, and Bucky’s also thinking about how Steve’s doing the dating thing too.

__

Bucky sort of expects Steve to catch up with him after class ends, to either talk about College Connections or maybe to continue with the plans Bucky thinks he was going to suggest they do after class, but Steve doesn’t. Bucky realizes about halfway to the student union that since Steve kept the flyer, Bucky has no idea where to find the office to turn in his form.

Bucky should have known better.

Once he gets to the union, he sort of wanders around until he reaches the school’s event billboard. The deep red flyer jumps out at him, and Bucky sighs in relief when he sees that the office _isn’t_ on the other side of the building.

The office is small, and there’s nobody else in the room when Bucky steps in. It’s just Bucky and the guy sitting on the other side of the desk. The guy Bucky remembers walking with Natasha from the study room.

“Hey uh, I’m here to turn in my dating form?”

The guy’s head pops up and his gaze catches on Bucky, and then he gives Bucky a quick once-over. He smirks.

“Awesome. You’re a hottie, you’ll fit right in,” he starts. “Yeah this is the place. College Connections. I’m Sam Wilson, event originator extraordinaire. And I have just added ‘matchmaker’ to my repertoire, just after fixing a burger bash and a cupcake war. My goal this semester is to step away from the food events. Here, I’ll take your form.”

Bucky pulls it out from his bag, slightly crumpled since he didn’t bother to put it in any kind of folder, and hands it over to Sam.

“Sorry it’s crumpled.”

Sam chuckles. “No worries. It isn’t the worst I’ve seen. I had someone write theirs with nail polish, which was both strange and impressive.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “I can’t decide if I’m impressed or not. I think I am. I totally understand trying to find alternatives when you can’t find a pen.”

Bucky hands his form over to Sam, who takes it and places it in a binder, which is actually a lot thicker with pages than he was expecting. He supposes Sam must have been telling Clint the truth after all: people are signing up.  

“Thanks! I’ll get this put into the system, and I will find you your perfect match here on campus! Once I do, you’ll get an email with the details of your date reservation and plans. Sadly, we don’t have money to actually _pay_ for the date, but if the both of you want to come to the union at the end of the night, we will have small desserts available, which may or may not be Little Debbie snacks. That said, you don’t even have to go along with the restaurant suggestion we email you. Really, it’s just serving as a place for the two of you to meet.”

“I won’t know the name of who I’m seeing beforehand?”

Sam grins. “Nope, we’re going full blind date with this shindig. Don’t worry, I’m going to do a very good job.”

Bucky shrugs. “Alright, I’ll let myself be surprised. I suppose the point of this is to meet new people. Thanks, Sam.”

Sam puts his hand up and gives a small wave, and Bucky leaves the office.

Now that his form is turned in, he actually feels a bit nervous. It wasn’t even his desire to sign up in the first place, but now that he’s _in,_ things are a bit different.

He’s musing on this as he walks to his car, and once he slips inside and starts the engine, a country singer blasts out at a deafening level through the speakers. Bucky cringes deeply and his hand shoots out to yank that volume dial all the way down. Next, he changes the radio to _any other fucking station_ and settles back as the level drone tune of commercials fill his car.

How the fuck that just happened, Bucky has no idea.

Bucky would never listen to country music.

__

“So, you turned in your form right?” Clint asks when Bucky walks into the apartment.

“Yeah, I’m officially part of _College Connections_. And, I found out something interesting about that today,” Bucky says. He grabs a water from the fridge and twists it open.

“Oh yeah?”

“Apparently Steve’s doing it too.”

Clint lets out a long, tired groan. “Oh my god, of course he is.”

Bucky pouts. “What?”

Clint sits up and turns around to face Bucky head on. “I’m going to lay down some fucking truths on you, Barnes, so get ready. Because I’ve reached my breaking point. At first it was hilarious hearing you come home and rant about whatever the hell Steve did to you that day. There was genuine annoyance there. But now, you literally are so far into denial you think you still don’t like him. So here we go. But first—I don’t want you to immediately start denying everything like you always do. Just let this _marinate_. Got it?”

Bucky waves a hand in agreement, allowing Clint to go on.

“I am into Natasha because she could probably stab me and I would thank her. You know this, because I talk about it. Then I actually did something and asked her out. Now let’s talk about you. I kept saying you needed to fuck Steve and get rid of that sexual tension, which is still true, but there’s more than that. You used to talk about the things Steve _did_ to you, but now you just talk about _Steve_. Like at the library? You didn’t even tell me what he did that apparently annoyed you. No, you told me about how he rode the elevator down with you. You’re a boy with a crush, Bucky, and you have a crush on Steve.”

__

_Steve Rogers invites you to play Bejeweled Blitz!_

Class starts in three minutes and Steve is nowhere to be found. Bucky realizes a lot of people aren’t in class, because it’s the week before dead week and people are kind of done with the semester at this point, but Steve has never missed _one day_ of class. He’s been there before Bucky every single day, both to lecture and discussion.

Steve must just be running late. Maybe his alarm didn’t go off, or maybe he’s having trouble finding parking. Maybe it was both. Bucky’s sure that Steve will walk in and come take his seat next to Bucky in no time.

Only after fifteen minutes, Steve’s chair is still empty. Bucky’s sure if it weren’t for Bucky’s bag in it, some other latecomer would have come in and stolen the seat.

The professor could be giving out every question and answer on the final exam for all Bucky knows, because he can’t pay attention at all. He keeps glancing back at the door, but those doors have stayed close for seven minutes now.

Bucky glances down at where his bag is in Steve’s chair. He misses him; the day is just more dull and more sad without him needling Bucky during class. History class has always meant Steve.

And now Steve is not here.

Bucky presses his lips together, and opens Facebook.

Even with the many, many invites to stupid Facebook games, Bucky remembers that being friends with Steve on the website means he can see if he’s online, and that Bucky can send him a message.  

Online.

Bucky opens up the chat and sends something simple. Casual.

**James B. Barnes: hey I notice you’re not in class today. Want me to send you the notes?**

Of course it is only after he hits send that Bucky realizes in order to fulfill this offer, he needs to actually be _taking_ notes that he can send to Steve. With his face heating up, Bucky tries to tune into the lecture and figure out what the hell the professor is talking about. He actually manages to get a few lines of notes in when Steve replies.

**Steve Rogers: Hey Buck! That would be great! I had to meet up with someone for work this morning :)**

A meeting for work. That’s a totally normal event, but strange to schedule it when Steve has class. Although, maybe Steve’s job doesn’t really give him much room to work with. Bucky has no idea what his job is, actually.

Bucky shrugs, and tunes back into lecture. If he does his best to take notes from the powerpoint as well as what the professor is saying, that’s just him being a good student.

__

_Steve Rogers wants you to play Trivia Crack!_

Bucky’s back in the library working on his history paper. Luckily for him, he’s found all the resources he needs online, so all he has to do is compile them into some sort of order that makes sense and flows easily.

Currently, he’s alone at a table. He’s so focused that he doesn’t notice when someone sits at his table. When he does eventually look up, a probably lengthy time later, he does a double-take. It’s Natasha. Like Bucky, she’s dressed in pajamas. Sweatpants and a t-shirt: the most comfortable combination and perfect for doing schoolwork. She has her own laptop pulled out, but she glances up and smirks at him. Bucky slips off his headphones.

It isn’t until seeing her that Bucky remembers about the college dating matchmaking he signed up for. Which will be happening this weekend. Fuck.

“Natasha, right? Clint finally told me your name. It was nice getting to update my brain’s contacts folder to that instead of leaving it as Redhead.”

She chuckles lowly. “Yes, Natasha Romanov. Pleased to meet you..”

“Bucky Barnes, but I’m getting the feeling you knew that.”

Natasha taps the side of her nose. “Got it in one. I’m a… friend of a friend.”

Bucky thinks on this, and can’t remember anyone talking about Natasha other than Clint. Duh.  

“Right, Clint. He’s my roommate.”

“That’s right! He told me about you..” Something about the way she says this makes Bucky think this isn’t the complete truth. “He told me he got you to sign up for College Connections. That’s good, we really need to boost our numbers.” Bucky remembers the very full binder of Sam’s which does _not_ look like they need to do that, and furrows his brows.

Bucky nods slowly. “Sure thing. So...why’d you sit at this table?”

Natasha shrugs, not bothered by the subject change. “I’ve seen you around a lot this semester. Figured I’d say hi before it ended. Besides, this table has the best vantage point to see the line at the coffee shop.”

Bucky looks over at said coffee line and sure enough, it is laughably long despite it being eleven o’clock at night.

“Alright, fair enough.” Bucky smiles at her and then turns back to his computer screen, trying to remember what the hell he was planning to finish this sentence with.

“What’re you working on?” Natasha asks probably a minute later. Bucky looks back up.

“Uh, history term paper.”

Natasha makes a face. “I hated that class. So many people and so much work. Are you excited to be finishing it?”

Bucky shrugs. Despite how hard he was dreading the class before the semester started and how much he regretted not taking it during freshman year, he actually didn’t end up minding it.

“It wasn’t so bad. Dr. Phillips is a decent professor. And Carter is a good TA.”

“Okay, but surely the bright-eyed freshman were annoying.”

Bucky feels like Natasha is trying to get at something, but he can’t figure out what. She isn’t asking very telling questions. He supposes it’s weird she’s focusing on his history class, but that’s all he can pick out. So, he just answers again.

“I guess maybe sometimes?” Bucky tries.

Natasha hums. “I have a friend who’s in a history class right now as well. He says he likes it a lot. Even more than some of his other classes, actually. I can’t figure out why. Nobody genuinely likes a general education class. Honestly I had thought his crush was what made him enjoy the class so much. Or I had thought that, anyway. Seems I’ve found another person who just likes the class. Maybe it is a good class,” Natasha muses.

“Crushes make a class much more appealing, yeah.” Bucky finds himself flashing back to the dull and boring class he had when Steve wasn’t there this week.  

Natasha’s lips stretch out into a satisfied smile, looking as though she got what she needed from Bucky with that single agreement. Yet still, Bucky is confused. Maybe she just wanted someone to agree with her.

“Good to know. I’m going to go get a coffee,” she says. Bucky watches her go towards the coffee line, which only has two or three people in line now. Almost too perfect timing, it seems.

“Ooookay.”

__

_Steve Rogers sent you an invite to Kitchen Scramble!_

It’s Friday evening, and Bucky has instructions to show up at a reasonably priced Italian restaurant at 8:30pm according to a text from Sam Wilson. His reservation name is Albatross.

It’s 5:45 and Bucky is staring at a YouTube tutorial video on his phone, wondering how in the hell this person has managed such a nice plait, because every one Bucky has done has come out like shit. There is nothing “simple and easy” about this. Bucky is getting ready to start over from scratch when Clint walks in, dressed in a dark purple button down and black slacks. His hair is some kind of product in it and it’s swept up and over to the side. Bucky’s only seen this look a few times, and it is a galaxy away from his usual messy bedhead, bandaids on the face, and baggy white t-shirt.

Coincidentally, his date with Natasha is also tonight.

Clint steps up to the mirror and sweeps any stray hairs aside. Bucky must look impressed, because Clint smiles.

“I know, I look hot.” He looks down at Bucky’s paused YouTube video. “Oh, a braided updo! Nice.”

Bucky sighs frustratedly. “It would be, if I could actually do it.”

Clint hums and presses play on the video.

When it finishes, he turns to Bucky. “Okay, I got this. Sit down.”

Bucky does as told, with a lot of confusion. When Clint starts moving his hands around Bucky’s hair even better than even the girl in the YouTube video, Bucky turns his head to look up at Clint.

“Don’t move!”

Bucky moves his head back. “Okay, how the hell can you do hair? I’ve known you most of my life and I’ve never seen you do hair before. ”

“She showed us exactly how in the video, Bucky.”

Bucky knows that, but that still doesn’t explain how Clint is able to braid Bucky’s hair and tie it into the perfectly messy bun in one go.

“So, you excited for your date tonight? Where are you going again?”

“To a pizza place actually, which actually looks like a place you’d take a date. Hopefully she likes it..”

Clint pins the bun in place with several bobby pins Bucky had scattered all over the counter, finishing off the hair. Bucky has to admit, damn he looks hot too.

“Y’know, maybe you should have gone to hair school.”

Clint chuckles. “I can’t make enough small talk to do that.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and looks at it. “Oh shit, I’ve got to go. Reservation! Hope you match with someone good!”

Bucky grins. “Good luck with your date!”

Clint gives him a two-fingered salute and rushes out of the bathroom. After a minute, Bucky is looking for the hairspray he’s sure he has under the sink when Lucky pads into the doorway. He lets out a sad little whine.

“Clint forgot to feed you, didn’t he? What a terrible owner. C’mon, I’ll feed you.”

__

Bucky finally leaves the apartment in what he hopes is his best looking outfit. He hasn’t been on an actual date in a very long time, so he decided go all out tonight for this blind date.

He also elected for a button down shirt, only in a dark red. Over that he has one of his black leather jackets, paired with black jeans and his best looking combat boots. A mix of formal and of Bucky, which is the best first impression he could give a blind date.

Bucky makes it to his car, and it’s when he gets inside that he realizes how awkward this car thing could be. Usually a couple takes one car somewhere, but because the blind date is so damn secretive, there’s a chance Bucky and his date just both bring their own cars. So if they decide to go anywhere else, he supposes they’re just going to have to drive separately.

Bit of a kink in that planning.

Luckily the Italian place is relatively close to his apartment building. Even despite the Friday night dinner rush, Bucky is able to find parking with ease. He grabs his wallet and keys and strides over to the restaurant entrance.

“Hello there,” the host greets warmly.

“Hi, I’ve got a reservation under Albatross?”

The host keys in the name and then smiles.

“Wonderful. Your companion is already seated at the booth.” He gestures over to a seating area where sure enough there is a booth that only has one person there.

Bucky smiles at the host and walks over to the booth with a fluttery feeling in his stomach. He slides into the booth, a greeting already passing through his lips.

“Hey there, I’m Bucky Barnes,” he says. His gaze slides across the table and he finally sees his date. His mouth promptly falls open.

Of course it’s Steve Rogers is sitting across from him.

__

Bucky feels like they stare at each other in surprise for what feels like at least thirty-seven minutes, but might only be thirty-seven seconds. His mouth is closed again but his brain is running the thought train at light speed.

Steve recovers before Bucky does.

“Hi, Bucky,” he says with a shy smile. Steve has never looked shy in the whole time Bucky has known him, so it really isn’t his fault that he can’t stop _staring_ at that smile on Steve’s lips.

He needs to stop.

Bucky looks up at Steve, and it’s only now Bucky realizes how _good_ Steve looks. Like Bucky, he went for nice but not _too_ nice. He’s got on a white shirt underneath a deep blue bomber jacket. Bucky thinks the jacket probably makes Steve’s eyes look more blue than they already are, but luckily the soft red lighting from the lamp on their table saves Bucky from that problem.

“Hey, Steve.” Bucky returns the smile with his own before taking safety in looking at the menu.

What does he even say?

He’s on a date with the asshole who has been making Bucky’s life just _that_ much harder all semester and he’s _also_ the guy Bucky only recently accepted he has a crush on.

He feels like he’s in a rom-com.

Oh, _maybe_ Steve will be an asshole on the date and Bucky won’t crush on him any longer!

Wow, they’re both just awkwardly looking at their menus. It’s go time, Barnes.

“You look nice,” he says, because Steve _does_.

Steve looks down at himself as if having forgotten what he was wearing. When he looks back up, he’s sporting that shy smile again, and maybe a blush? Bucky thinks so, but that red lighting is a perfect cover-up.

“Thank you, you look wonderful too. I uh, like what you did with your hair.”

Bucky doesn’t realize he’s reached up to touch his hair until it’s already too late. “Thanks.” Bucky tilts his head. “Have you ever noticed that the things that are supposed to be simple are always the things that are embarrassingly difficult?”

Steve is already nodding gravely.

“Yes. Drawing feet is exactly that. Okay, in theory I should be fine with drawing them because I have two and I see them all the time, right? But I always end up putting shoes on whatever I’m drawing.”

Bucky actually laughs, because that is probably the last example he would have thought of, and Steve seems so insulted by feet being difficult to draw.

“Honestly I was just thinking about the YouTube video I watched for this hairdo. I never thought of the complications with foot drawing. Is there a story for your conflict with feet?”

“Okay, I had to do this project in one of my classes, see. We had to pick a part of the human body to draw, and a lot of people picked hands because those are pretty easy, others picked the jaw, and I picked the foot because I’d never really drawn one before? And I’ll tell you, if you looked at my browser history or the poster of foot reference photos I had, you’d think I had a foot fetish. It was probably the most difficult project I’ve ever had to do.”

“Oh my god,” Bucky says in between chuckles.

Someone clears their throat, and Bucky looks over to see their waitress. She looks slightly embarrassed, which means she probably walked up around the time Steve mentioned ‘foot fetish’.

“Hi, my name is Kamala and I’ll be your waitress this evening. Do you know what you’d like to order?”

Both Bucky and Steve stutter out two forms of ‘not yet’. Kamala smiles politely, promising to come back in a couple minutes.

“How do you feel about wine?” Steve asks.

“I like it well enough, but I don’t know what to pick from a wine list,” Bucky says. He usually just goes for cheap beer and cheap wine, neither of which are probably served at this restaurant.

Steve grins. “Trust me?”

Bucky knows Steve is referring to the wine, but for some reason it feels like more than that when he says: “Okay.”

Bucky takes a few minutes to actually look at his menu, instead of just using it as something to hide behind. He decides on what he’s going to get and when he sets his menu down, Steve is looking at him. Bucky raises an eyebrow, and is about to ask but the waitress walks up.

“Have you decided?”

Steve nods and glances down at the wine list and asks for a bottle of something Italian. Bucky raises an eyebrow at the _bottle of_.

“And we think we’re ready to order food.” Steve glances over to Bucky. “Right, Buck?”

“Yup.”

Steve waits.

“Oh! I’ll have the fettuccine alfredo with shrimp.”

Steve orders his own food, and the waitress leaves them alone again.

“So, Steve, where do you work? Or do you do any… freelance drawing?”

Bucky is pretty sure they’ve covered almost every boring first date topic there is. He should ask about the weather next, just to cover all the bases.

Steve is smirking. “I suppose I can tell you now.”

“Now? Did I pass a test? Are you some government agent? A super spy?” Bucky widens his eyes and lowers his voice. “Assassin?”

Steve grins and shoots Bucky a wink. “I’d say nothing like that, but I’m not entirely sure I’d be truthful.”

Well that’s cryptic as hell.

“Gentlemen,” their waitress says, pulling their attention away from each other. She’s holding out a glass, presumably to sample the wine. Bucky nods over to Steve, since he ordered.

While she pours and Steve starts swirling, Bucky tries to figure out what Steve’s mysterious job is.

Steve nods his approval and the waitress pours a generous amount into both glasses before setting the bottle on the table. She leaves them with a smile.

Bucky looks at Steve expectantly.

“Well, aren’t you gonna see if I can pick wine?”

Bucky shakes his head, but picks his glass up nonetheless. “Aren’t you gonna tell me about your job?”

The wine is wonderful; sweet but not overly so. Bucky dips his head to Steve in acknowledgment.

“Well, I suppose I gotta now, don’t I?”

Bucky waves Steve to go on.

“I’ve got something I run with my roommate. It started as a Craigslist post I made hoping for some cash, but it evolved once Natasha—“

“Natasha? Does she have red hair? Usually found in a leather jacket?”

Steve blinks. “Yeah, that’s her. You know her?”

“I’ve been seeing her around all semester, but I hadn’t actually met her until this week.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “That sounds like her. Anyway, you weren’t totally off base when you asked if I was an assassin.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Am I on a date with a murderer?”

Steve smiles, but something tells Bucky it wasn’t at the ‘murderer’ part.

“No, I’m not an assassin. I’m an asshole.”

Bucky barks out a laugh. “Well yeah I knew _that_.”

“No, like professionally! I’m a professional asshole!” Steve pauses, but Bucky doesn’t understand. “Okay. People hire me to instigate minor inconveniences onto someone, for some amount of time and to different degrees. So I do things like park real close behind someone’s car so they can’t back out and end up being late for work, or go and buy out the candy bar they get at the convenience store every day after school.”

Bucky hits his moment of realization.

“Oh my god, you’ve been hired to do that to _me_. That’s what the whole month has been!”

Steve grins. “Bingo.”

“What the hell! Who hired you?”

“Clint Barton, your roommate.”

Bucky sits back in his chair in surprise, because he wouldn’t have expected it to be Clint. Steve moves to elaborate.

“He met with me the week before the semester started. Hired me to mess with you for a full month. People usually feel they need to explain why they want me to do this to whoever it is, and Clint was the same. He was upset because you asked to borrow his Nintendo DS six years ago? And you never gave it back.”

Bucky thinks to the Nintendo DS he keeps in his bedroom, the one he doesn’t even play that often. When he thinks back to six years ago, he _does_ remember asking Clint to borrow his.

“Holy shit.”

“You were my longest job. Natasha was jealous she didn’t get it, because the average amount of time someone hires us is for a week, maybe a week and a half. So a month was a jackpot I grabbed. It was only happy coincidence we were in the same history class.”

“So you were never actually out to get me because you hate me. We aren’t enemies.”

Steve widens his eyes, looking a little afraid. “No. Nothing like that.”

“Okay, okay. Wow. I don’t think I buy that you didn’t enjoy doing it though.”

“Oh, I enjoyed it a heck of a lot. You’re really cute when you get all angry and annoyed at me.”

It’s Bucky’s turn to be thankful for the soft red lighting hiding his blush.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/165555984@N05/45522984962/)

“Y’know, you’re really not all that subtle. I always knew it was you doing everything.”

Steve smirks. “Did you? Did you ever figure out that everything in your bedroom was moved two inches to the left? Or how your car’s volume got turned up super loud and was on a country radio station you never listen to?”

“Oh my god, you’re diabolical.”

“Clint was very enthusiastic and helped out with some of my ideas. I thought you had me the day we ran into each other on your floor at your apartment complex. Luckily for me, you didn’t push me on why I was there before I made a quick exit.”

Bucky just sits back and shakes his head at Steve, with a small smile on his face.

“So, you mad at me?” Steve asks jokingly, but Bucky hears the undercurrent of worry in the question.

Bucky hums and looks him in the eye, leaving him waiting. He waits a beat too long though, because he can’t keep the smile off his face.  “Nah. I guess I kind of liked you pulling at my pigtails.”

Steve huffs a laugh at the metaphor, and smiles up at Bucky from under his really unfairly long eyelashes. “Is that so?”

Bucky smirks, and then raises his wine glass to his lips to take a sip, not once breaking eye contact with Steve. He thinks he’s getting the right vibe off of Steve based on the way his eyes just darkened, but he needs to be sure before he goes any further.

“So, the flirting. Was that part of your work image too?”

Steve blinks in surprise, as if not having expected the question. “No, that wasn’t for work.”

Bucky hums. “That’s good to know.”

“Is it?”

“Oh yes. It means you and I are on the same page.”

Bucky hadn’t even noticed the waitress bringing their food over, so he has to reel backward in his seat when a plate enters his vision. Once everything is on the table, Steve and Bucky focus on their food and drink.  

Bucky is twirling his fork around in his pasta, and he slyly glances up to look at Steve. He makes eating look sexy, with the way his hands look wrapped around the silverware and honestly that mouth is indecent no matter what it’s doing.

He moves his eyes lower and onto Steve’s white shirt. Bucky bets it’s a size or two too small just like the rest of his wardrobe, and Bucky is thankful to either Steve for being oblivious or to the people who never told him he needed a size up. Bucky probably stares too long trying to decide if it’s translucent.

When Bucky looks back up to Steve’s face, Steve is looking right back at him. Going for nonchalant, Bucky darts his gaze back down to his plate, where he’s twirled about a softball of pasta around his fork. Awkwardly, Bucky slides the pasta off of his fork and then re-twirls a normal bite. When he looks up again Steve is smirking at him.

Bucky raises an eyebrow and then picks up his glass to finish the last bit of wine in it.

“You look at me a lot.”

There isn’t really a way for Bucky to deny it. “Maybe I do. Even when I thought you were just an asshole, I couldn’t pretend you weren’t a _hot_ asshole.”

“You know just the right things to say, Barnes.”

The air between them is charged, and it’s causing Bucky to feel antsy. They’ve both established their attraction to each other pretty clearly, but they aren’t been able to _do_ anything about it. They’re sitting at a booth across from each other, and the table has become a sort of barrier.

Clint has said numerous times that Bucky should just bang Steve, but it isn’t until now that Bucky feels like it’s something that could actually happen.

When their plates have been cleared, Kamala comes back and asks if they’re interested in seeing the dessert menu. Bucky is about to decline, but Steve speaks first.

“Yes, that would be wonderful.”

What the hell, Steve.

Kamala smiles and hands it to Steve.

He doesn’t say anything, so Bucky waits. When Steve looks up, the bastard is smirking.

“I hear the lemon ricotta granita is really good here,” he says. “Do you like lemon?”

“Yes, but—” Bucky cuts off, not entirely sure how to articulate how he thought they’d pay the bill fast so something could happen between them. Something of the kissing variety. “Yes, I like lemon.”

“Would you like to share?”

Bucky blinks. That’s awful coupley. “Sure.”

When the waitress comes back, Steve places the order.

They start to chat indistinctly while they wait for the dessert to come out. When it does, Bucky notices how small the glob of dessert is in its bowl. It could be eaten in three bites. Which means it will take no time at all for them to finish it. Good.

Only, Steve makes the smallest dent with his spoon. Just a tiny bit of the topping and of the icy scoop. He holds his spoon out to Bucky.

“Here.”

Bucky stares at the offered spoon and feels himself blush again. He’s not sure whether Steve wants him to lean over and eat the dessert or to take the spoon from his hand. He decides to go for sexy and leans over the table, taking the small piece of granita into his mouth.

Steve watches him with dark eyes as Bucky sits back in his chair.

“‘S good.”

Steve smiles and takes another (tiny) bite for himself. They trade bites, but Bucky becomes tired of Steve’s small bites. What should have been one normal-sized bite has become fifteen tiny ones.

“Are you deliberately making me wait?”

Steve glances up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I just wanted to treat my date.”

Bucky feels like that’s not entirely true, but he indulges Steve despite how impatient he feels.

After the bowl finally gets cleared and the bill has been paid, Bucky isn’t sure what the hell is going to happen from here. He knows that the get-together thing on campus is probably in full swing by now, which is good because Bucky doesn’t want the date to end quite yet.

As they walk out to the parking lot, their arms brush several times. Bucky’s car is closer, so they get to it first and loiter next to it. Both waiting for the other to say something first.

“So…” Bucky trails off, but he doesn’t get to say any more because Steve’s large, warm hand is cupping his cheek and then his mouth is on Bucky’s.

Bucky’s eyes fall closed and his mouth opens in a gasp. Steve takes it as invitation and deepens the kiss. His lips are a little chapped, but his hands are hot against Bucky’s neck. Too soon, Steve’s pulling away.

“I didn’t want to wait any longer,” Steve says, slightly out of breath.

Bucky nods, lips still parted. “It’s your fault for making me wait,” Bucky murmurs just to be a jerk. “D’you want to follow me back to my apartment?”

Steve licks his own lips, and swallows.  His reply is breathy.

“Yes.”

__

Dammit, he should have offered to drive Steve back to his car in the morning.  This impromptu two-man convoy is a weird pause in their date, and it’s bothering him.. Being with Steve in the parking lot, that _kiss_ , set his body on fire. Bucky’s been left wanting and not in the fun way.

When he gets stuck at yet another red light, he lets out a groan of frustration. Bucky glances back at Steve’s car in his rearview mirror and waves dorkily.  He contemplates just running the light but luckily it turns green before he can.

After lightly speeding the rest of the way and parking in his usual spot, Bucky jumps out of the car. Steve parks next to him, and Bucky wants to snark about Steve knowing how to park properly, but he refrains. Grinning, Bucky takes Steve’s hand and walks them to the elevator. Steve ducks his head, a little bashful.

“Come on.”

When they get in the thankfully empty elevator, the air is charged again. Bucky decides it’s his turn to pull Steve in for a kiss, and so he does. It’s firm and fast, really more of a statement than anything. Their lips part with a smack, and Bucky smirks up at Steve.

When the elevator doors open Bucky tows Steve along behind him. As soon as he unlocks the door, Steve spins them around and presses Bucky up against it. Steve’s hands are firm on Bucky’s hips, and he’s nosing at Bucky’s jawline.

“I’ve thought about this,” Steve murmurs.

Bucky hums in pleasure. “So have I,” he admits. “originally...just as a hate-fuck.”

Steve chuckles and pulls back to look at Bucky. “Oh, really?”

“Mm-hmm.”

It’s then that Bucky feels another touch at a _different_ part of his body. Somewhere lower than his hips. His knee, where Lucky’s wet nose is snuffing at his pants.

“Now, as hot as that was, I don’t really want to be interrupted by Lucky. Bedroom’s this way.” He tilts his chin over to the back.

“Lead the way.”

Bucky does so, kicking his shoes off along the way. If he does a sort of sashay too, then that’s his business.

Once through the door, he turns around walks backwards, trying to be as enticing as possible. He’s taking the last step from the bed when he feels a sharp pain in the sole of his foot. He falls backwards onto his bed, flailing a little and curses internally. Ugh, not sexy at all.

“Ow! What the fuck was that?”

Steve’s laughing, but he crouches down and shows Bucky an easily identifiable yellow rectangle, with eight circles on the top.

“A fucking lego. Wait, I don’t have legos. Is that yours? That’s got to be the cruelest thing in the book, Steve.”

“It isn’t mine! If it were me you would have stepped on a hundred by now.”

Bucky’s still skeptical. Steve squeezes himself between Bucky’s knees. He leans deep towards Bucky, chest to chest, almost lying of top of him. Bucky can feel the vibrations of that deep sexy rumbling voice and the next line out of Steve’s mouth steals his breath away

“Well,” Steve says, patting Bucky’s foot, “I’d offer to kiss and make it better, but instead what I’m going to do is make you forget anything but calling my name.”

__

“We missed the snack thing on campus,” Steve says after several minutes of just catching their breath.

Bucky turns over to look at him. “Oh, did you wanna go?”

Steve hums and pulls Bucky to lay against him.

“No, you’re sweeter than any Little Debbie snack.” Steve pauses. “Except maybe the cinnamon roll.”

“Asshole.”

__

In the morning, Bucky wakes up alone.

When he sits up, he’s immediately and pleasantly reminded of his night with Steve. For a moment, Bucky thinks Steve left, but then he hears two voices coming from outside. Pulling on his boxers, he walks out of the doorway to finds Steve (gloriously shirtless, hot damn) standing at the stove and Clint munching on a strip of bacon.

Instead of going into the kitchen, he ducks back into his bedroom to grab something first.

He walks back out and over to Steve, kissing him good morning. He turns to face Clint, who is raising a smug eyebrow at him.

“You know, you could have just asked.” Bucky holds out the Nintendo DS to Clint.

_____

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/165555984@N05/31700957868/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Tidbits!  
> -Clint walked into that pizza shop expecting to see Natasha, not Steve. He saw her putting up flyers, so he was surprised. Surprised enough to give Steve a job based on the first excuse he could think of: the Nintendo DS. He figured he may as well get some laughs. 
> 
> -Bucky has been seeing Natasha around because she wanted to see the guy that's got Steve all giggly, and also because she shares classes in a lot of the same buildings :)
> 
> -College Connections was a sham designed entirely by Clint and Natasha, with Sam's help, to get Steve and Bucky together. There were no other participants. Sam's binder was full of empty pages. 
> 
> -And Steve definitely walked in on them conspiring too. 
> 
> -Steve has been pining for ages. 
> 
> Find us!  
> [deceptivesoldier](http://deceptivesoldier.tumblr.com)  
> [falcon_chill](http://falcon-chill.tumblr.com)  
> [sianimations](http://sianimations.tumblr.com)  
> [entigral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/entigral/pseuds/entigral)


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